


How Long Has it Been Since You've Slept?

by mrex



Series: Prompt Fills [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 16:16:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17665895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrex/pseuds/mrex
Summary: Snack in hand, caff refused, and settled in at Rose’s table, Finn asks a burning question: “So why are you here alone, drinking caff at 3 in the morning?”He can see the dark circles gathered under her pretty eyes, the frown line deepening between her strong brows. The lips he dreams of are turned downward in pain. It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but even her skin seems to have lost its glow. The roses in her cheeks that suit her so well, in name as well as in her cheerful personality, are missing.Even her irrepressible hair seems depressed.Rose. Pretty Rose. Strong, smart Rose. Clearly, something is terribly wrong.





	How Long Has it Been Since You've Slept?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoveThemFiercely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveThemFiercely/gifts).



> #10 in a "hurt/comfort" prompt list for [LoveThemFiercely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveThemFiercely/)

0300 hours is probably too early by any standard, even here on base, where nights run long and morning comes early.

Still, it had been several hours since dinner, and would be four more until breakfast; a little snack could be justified. And Finn’s growling stomach will not let him sleep until it is sated.

He meanders his way through the halls to the mess area, planning his route through the kitchen. A little poke around in the cupboards, or maybe the refrigeration unit, should yield something tasty. Too bad Rey was such a sound sleeper; she would know where all the good stuff was kept.

As he rounds the corner from the hallway into the dining area, a beam of light blazes directly in his face, freezing him in his tracks.

“Who is it?” whisper-shouts a voice, shaky but strong, and decidedly feminine.

“Rose? It’s just me, Finn,” he replies, attempting to shield his vision from the ridiculously strong light. A standard flashtorch has no defenses against Rose’s special modifications. No doubt, if a layperson could ever construct a lightsaber, Rose would be the first.

“Oh.” The light disappears, but the afterburn leaves Finn completely blind.

“Um, where are you? I can’t see at all now.”

“Oh, gosh, sorry.” The feet of a chair scratch across the floor and Rose’s familiar footsteps come toward him, followed by her hand taking his arm. “Do you want the kitchen or to sit?”

“Honestly, kitchen first.”

*

Snack in hand, caff refused, and settled in at Rose’s table, Finn asks a burning question: “So why are you here alone, drinking caff at 3 in the morning?”

Rose doesn’t answer, just stares down at her cup. Finn allows a long silence to stretch between them. Rose talks when she wants; too much for some. Finn doesn’t mind, but if she doesn’t feel like talking, there must be a good reason.

As the moment extends, Finn’s eyes continue to adjust to the muted light in the mess hall, to where can pick out the details of Rose’s face. Her pretty eyes, framed by finely-shaped brows, full lips that readily form a warm smile. Features he’s beginning to memorize, to see in his dreams.

But he can also see the dark circles gathered under those pretty eyes, the frown line deepening between her strong brows. The lips he dreams of are turned downward in pain. It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but even her skin seems to have lost its glow. The roses in her cheeks that suit her so well, in name as well as in her cheerful personality, are missing.

Even her irrepressible hair seems depressed.

Rose. Pretty Rose. Strong, smart Rose. Clearly, something is terribly wrong.

He dares to reach a hand across the table, gently laying it on her wrist. “How long has it been since you slept?”

Rose looks up then, but not at Finn, turning her head away to avoid his gaze. A tear glistens in her eye, then falls. She roughly wipes it away with the heel of her unclaimed hand.

“Everything’s so calm, now. I thought it would be easier.”

Finn says nothing, just rubs his thumb along Rose’s wrist.

“I mean, we’ve all lost so much, so many. But everyone else seems to just pick up the pieces and move on. And I was okay when we were so busy!

"But now, it’s been so quiet. We’ve gotten most of the glitches worked out of the mechanical systems, so it’s mostly maintenance.”

She emits a short laugh. “It’s stuff I could do in my sleep.”

Finn gives her hand a little squeeze.

“So no, I haven’t slept in a while, not really. I lay in bed and think about Paige, all the time.”

She pauses again to wipe another tear from her cheek. Finn wishes he could do it for her, but it seems like too much, like he would be pushing for something Rose isn’t ready for.

“I said we would win by saving what we love, but…”

She trails off and chokes down a sob.

“But I couldn’t save Paige.”

Finn waits, just for a moment, then whispers, “You know that wasn’t your fault, right? Rose?”

Rose finally looks at him, then. “I know. Deep down, I know that. But if I’d been with her…” Rose turns away to the window again.

Finn lets her partial assertion stand. Whatever happened, happened. No one could say what would happen if the situation had been different.

His thumb strokes across her wrist. “But why here? Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in your bunk?”

“Because of that window,” she answers, indicating the window closest to their table, where a faint light barely began to illuminate the ground outside.

“The sun rises in that window. General Organa - you know what she said about hope? Of course you do. But right now, I can’t believe in it unless I do see it, you know?

"So I sit here and drink caff and wait for hope to rise. And I don’t sleep.”

Finn says nothing. What could he say? Instead, he lifts Rose’s hand in his own and presses it gently to his lips. One side of Rose’s mouth slightly lifts in an approximation of a sad smile. Their hands stay clasped, and Finn gently caresses her knuckles with his thumb.

Then, she turns away, toward the window, and Finn does as well.

And they wait together for the sun to rise again.


End file.
